


The Green Place

by QuickLikeLight



Series: Tumblr Fics [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9814508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/pseuds/QuickLikeLight
Summary: He hadn’t realized that draining the Nemeton would mean pouring himself out as well, but he should have.





	1. Chapter 1

“Scott - Scotty, no, please Scott no -”

His pack is close. The pain is… minimal. It had been bright and harsh and quick, and then it wasn’t, for the first time in years really, and that - well, it’s nice. His thoughts feel fuzzy, disconnected, like the comfortable mess of scattered dreams that happens just upon waking. Or, in this case, falling asleep. 

Stiles’ voice is so far away, though, so much further than it should be - enough that he wants to fight the pull of the current, drag himself back to the sound like he has time and again. Scott forces his eyes to open - just a crack, just enough to see Stiles’ face, see the way his eyes brighten and his forehead smoothes out in something like relief.

“That’s it, come on, hey,” Stiles’ voice drops to a whisper, hard to make out over the rushing in his ears, like wind through the trees. “Come back now okay? It’s - it’s over, you did it, again. You can come back now.”

Tears that cling to Stiles’ eyelashes give up on their tenuous hold, splash down to bathe his skin, preparing him for the tomb. He wonders absently if anyone else would consider them perfumed, or if that is twenty years of devotion drowning him in Stiles’ scent.

“S’ -” he tries, lips numb with cold and tasting of copper. Stiles shakes his head, hushing, holding, but Scott just tries again. It is what he does. Soon, it will be what he did. “S’done. Go - you can go home. Safe now.”

He hadn’t realized that draining the Nemeton would mean pouring himself out as well, but he should have. Of course, even if he had -

Would he have chosen differently?

“Scott - Scott no, listen, you have to - fight it Scott, you can do it, please? Fight it for me. Scotty please you know I can’t - I can’t do it if you aren’t - _Scott no, please, come on, I love you, I love you Scott, I can’t do it without you, I - Scott_ \- Scott - ?” 

When he opens his eyes again, the whole world is _green_ , and a memory of amber.


	2. Chapter 2

The trees tower around him, as unalike anything from home as they can be and still be trees. The forest floor is warm and covered in needles - like pine, but with a different smell, something sweeter and more astringent at the same time. It makes him think of the incense his tía, Morena, used to burn sometimes when she said his head needed airing out. The memory makes him smile - makes him wonder if she’s here, somewhere, among the trees, or if this is a place made just for wolf boys.

He feels a lightness welling up inside as he gets up from the ground, dusts his hands off on clothes he never wore but still recognizes. He can’t make out the sun through the trees, but there’s a light coming from a distance, illuminating the forest and creating patches of shadow, too - light and dark, coexisting, too harmonious to be the world he came from.

This is it, he thinks. He laughs, too full of all this - something - to keep it in, relishes saying the words out loud: “This is the place.”

“Any idea where it is?”

 

Stiles’ voice behind him is shocking. It is not as shocking as it should be. Scott turns, slow and careful, hope and fear warring with themselves and each other in his gut.

“Stiles - you - you didn’t -”

“Told you,” Stiles shrugs.

“Told me?” He can’t help that he goes a little screechy, a little over the top. It’s just like Stiles to do this, to - to be here, when he should be there, growing and helping and living.

“Won’t do it without you. Now, which way do we go?”

“Stiles, your dad - Lydia, Malia - the pack? You just - you left them there - and -?” His chest aches for the losses he knows the others were suffering, the way they’ll mourn him and Stiles together, as a unit - both lost to the last battle in different ways.

In the same way, maybe. Ultimately.

“Do we have directions, or is this some sort of… I dunno - purgatory? Do we just walk indefinitely until we find our way out?”

“Stiles, would you just -”

“What did you expect me to do, Scott?” Stiles’ face is screwed up like he’s in pain, and it reminds Scott that this is probably the first time since he got the bite that he doesn’t hurt somewhere, under his skin.

“I expected you to stay,” he says. The weightlessness he felt is still there, but hovering at the edges is a dark thing, a heavy thing, and he tries to pull it closer even as he wants to push it away. “I thought… I was leaving them with someone. Someone who’d care for them.”

“You did,” Stiles assures him, hands out, placating. “They have each other. They have Derek, and Braeden. Lydia, Malia, and Kira take care of each other. Mason and Liam will be okay, and Brett and Hayden will help. Tracy’s probably better at taking care of herself than any of us. That wasn’t - Scott, that was never going to be me. But they all have someone to care for them anyway. You did fine.”

He’s right, is the thing. Scott knows he is - Stiles knows the pack as well as he does, knows all the ways they fit together, knows all the ways they can be torn apart. And after years of it, of time and tyrants trying them over and over, Stiles is here on this side with him. 

“You were the one without someone to take care of you,” Stiles says, quieter now, and Scott can’t help the laugh it startles out. Stiles smiles at him. “What, was I just going to let you go off into the unknown without me? You’ll get yourself killed.” 

“I already did,” Scott corrects, dragging a hand over his face. “I killed the Nemeton and I died too. You weren’t actually supposed to be a part of that, you know?”

“Well, you know. Where you go, I go.” Stiles spins around, checking out their surroundings. “So, like I said, do you know where we’re going?”

Scott shrugs, looking into the distance. He should be angry, he thinks - should be mad at Stiles for following him here, when he had a chance to stay there. He can’t though. 

“I’ve never made it this far before,” Scott says, a little apologetic. In all the times he’s died, apparently this was the only one that was going to take. 

“Never - ?” 

“Before, when I…” _Came alone_. 

Stiles lips find his before the rest of his sentence does, and he doesn’t know if he has to breathe here, but it feels like fresh air.

“Should - should have done that sooner,” Scott says, when he gets his bearings back. “Probably could have avoided the argument.”

“You’re the one who hates conflict,” Stiles laughs, pulling him in with both arms around his shoulders, knocking their foreheads together so gently, Scott almost can’t feel it at all. 

“Why’d you wait?” He knows why he did - why it always felt like a step too far, back there. But then, could anything be too far after the step Stiles already took?

“Significantly less to lose here, I guess,” Stiles shrugs, and his smile is brighter than the light.

“Then let’s lose it again,” Scott suggests, mouth already halfway to Stiles’.

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback is valuable to all fic writers, and I'm no exception. If you enjoyed this story, please let me know.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://quicklikelight.tumblr.com).


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